Sojourneyers – One family's adventurehttps://sojourneyers.com
Follow a family of three as we travel the world exploring and learning more about the world, ourselves and our familySat, 11 Mar 2017 14:10:39 +0000enhourly1http://wordpress.com/https://s2.wp.com/i/buttonw-com.pngSojourneyers – One family's adventurehttps://sojourneyers.com
Barbados Blisshttps://sojourneyers.com/2013/10/25/barbados-bliss/
https://sojourneyers.com/2013/10/25/barbados-bliss/#respondFri, 25 Oct 2013 23:00:54 +0000http://sojourneyers.com/?p=1916]]>We’ve been “home” for four weeks now and quickly absorbed back into our scheduled lives of school, work and house obligations. The upshot of this is that I’m finding it difficult to find the time to post about our final couple of months, but have decided it may be easiest to work backwards.

So…I take up our story in the 2nd week of September….

After 3 1/2 months of moving around Europe, we were all tired. Not unhappy, but just worn out enough from the constant road-tripping to be at risk of having our fabulous year flame out on a cranky note. It wasn’t difficult to convince ourselves that the Caribbean would be a convenient stopping off point and the last time Jonathan and I had made it there was in October 2001.

The first challenge was that continental Europe didn’t seem to offer many reasonably-priced flights to the Caribbean. Fortunately, we chanced upon a Condor Air flight from Frankfurt to Barbados, which was half the price of the established British airlines flying out of Heathrow, and were very pleasantly surprised. We chose Barbados in part due to its British heritage, its high literacy rate, its low crime figures, its beaches and its size–large enough to stave off island fever for a stay longer than one week.

We had three weeks to kill before we were due back home in SF, so in the spirit of ending our journey in style, I booked two weeks at the Tamarind Hotel on the West Coast of the island and eight days in, we extended our stay for the remainder (I really was burnt out on moving!). With a complimentary kids club open from 9-5 every day except Sunday, free water sports such as windsurfing, waterskiing, banana boats, inner tubes and snorkeling, a lavish breakfast buffet and a location on a top-notch beach, we were won over. Oh–and we had somehow lucked into the best room in the hotel, which didn’t hurt either.

The days languorously unfolded, storms blew onshore and off, the sun rose and set, we wore bathing suits and only dressed for dinner, Jonathan spent hours snorkeling in the calm sea, Zara spent hours seeing how far she could swim underwater, I soaked in the ambience and reflected on the last 11 months…it was ideal.

And with nearly a month elapsed since our return, these moments stand out:

Riding the yellow “reggae” buses to town, as the driver and his team rock out to blaring reggae tunes and race the official city buses down the streets

Bajan hospitality – amongst the friendliest we encountered in the 28 countries we saw this year

Getting scuba-certified with G, our dive master, at Westside Scuba, and suppressing the feeling of panic when my scuba gear snagged on a barnacle-encrusted metal plate on our first wreck dive

The legendary “original pineapple man”, who has pounded the sands of Barbados’ West Coast for over 30 years selling pineapples (for a mint) and reggae rhymes (for free)

Exploring the limestone caverns of Harrison’s Caves, the source of Barbados’ sublime water

Seeing the thrill on Zara’s face when she finally got up (and stayed up) water-skiing

Swimming with turtles, all fun and games until Zara got her finger nipped while holding some bait for some ravenous schools of fish

The kids’ club, where Zara got so much needed privacy from her parents (ah-hem)

Discovering tasty Indian fare at Sitar in Holetown

Exploring the wild East Coast

Discovering a house for sale on the South Coast that had us seriously contemplating a more permanent island lifestyle

View from our balcony

Dancing on the balcony

Relaxed and happy

A sunset I would never tire of…

The “original pineapple man”

Exploring the south of the island

Nervous smile before scuba certification dives

Barbados friends (from Spain)

Finding coconuts on the wild and remote East Coast

Beach babe

Beach boulders on the East Coast – this one has a bench on top but we didn’t find an easy route up

Heading out to snorkle with turtles

Jonathan proved to be a tasty last meal to a mosquito

Jonathan waterskiing

Mermaid girl

Exploring Harrison’s Caves

]]>https://sojourneyers.com/2013/10/25/barbados-bliss/feed/0jenfkirkImageImageImageSunset viewPineapple manExploring the south of the islandNervous smile before scuba certification divesBarbados friends (from Spain)Finding coconuts on the wild and remote East CoastBeach babeBeach boulders on the East Coast - this one has a bench on top but we didn't find an easy route upHeading out to snorkle with turtlesJonathan proved to be a tasty last meal to a mosquitoJonathan waterskiingMermaid girlExploring Harrison's CavesVenice: What’s that about a pigeon feeding ban?https://sojourneyers.com/2013/09/22/venice-whats-that-about-a-pigeon-feeding-ban/
https://sojourneyers.com/2013/09/22/venice-whats-that-about-a-pigeon-feeding-ban/#commentsSun, 22 Sep 2013 10:56:50 +0000http://sojourneyers.com/?p=1852]]>

Pigeon girl

Stocked up on pigeon feed

Another day, another pigeon-feeding opportunity

Much needed gelato-break. Venice in August is HOT.

A masked princess and her Daddy

Final pigeon day, this time with arms covered!

Some people travel to Venice for the romance, for the art, for the canals and the gondolas (or the gondaliers!)…and once upon a time there was a 6-year old girl who had her heart set on feeding the pigeons in St. Mark’s Square.

As we checked into our fabulous Airbnb apartment rental located a stone’s throw from St. Mark’s Square in a sixth-floor walk-up with a view of the Doge’s Palace, Zara was vibrating with excitement about feeding the pigeons, even though I had already mentioned that there may be a pigeon-feeding ban. As our host showed us around the apartment, Zara couldn’t contain herself (and was oblivious to the warning looks I was shooting her way) and started chattering enthusiastically what she would feed to the pigeons.

Fortunately, the Venice police didn’t make enforcement of this ban a high priority — their primary targets were the birdseed sellers, not the enthusiastic tourists who gather to be pecked at and accosted by these flying rats.

Thus, one of our daily rituals became passing through the square so that Zara could feed the pigeons while hundreds of Chinese tourists made her the focus of their photo shoots.

Warning: Pigeon-feeding requires appropriate attire–wear long sleeves. Zara’s bare arms were covered with pigeon scratches after a particularly long feeding session and I spent the rest of the day worried about whether the scratches had broken the skin and infected her with a pigeon virus. (I’m relieved to report that three weeks on there have been no worrying symptoms.)

When we weren’t feeding pigeons, we were sweating as we jostled our way through crowds and eating overpriced, mediocre Italian fare. And of course we took a gondola ride (the day after an unfortunate German tourist had been crushed to death in front of his family when his gondola collided with a vaporetto in the crammed canals).

We also spent a couple of hours at the Peggy Guggenheim Museum, viewing the heiress’s modern art collection, which is housed in her former home on the Grand Canal, although there were at least a few contemporary pieces that had Jonathan literally crying out in disbelief at the “art”.

The Rose (but you’d be forgiven for mistaking it for graph paper)

On the positive side, the heat provided a convenient excuse for Aperol Spritzes, although Italians never seem to need an excuse to drink (wine before noon is a common sight).

I’m not sure that I would choose to visit Venice again in August. The crowds were like locusts swarming every popular site and the heat was, well, HOT. On the plus side, it didn’t smell as “ripe” as I’d feared and we didn’t have any flooding.

In all seriousness, I love Venice, just maybe not in August. I think that this applies to Italy generally. At least I didn’t have to drive in Venice…

]]>https://sojourneyers.com/2013/09/22/venice-whats-that-about-a-pigeon-feeding-ban/feed/2jenfkirkPigeon girlStocked up on pigeon feedAnother day, another pigeon-feeding opportunityMuch needed gelato-break. Venice in August is HOT.A masked princess and her Daddy2013-08-18 11.37.54Final pigeon day, this time with arms covered!2013-08-17 12.46.492013-08-16 20.12.182013-08-16 19.41.292013-08-16 21.48.502013-08-18 17.47.442013-08-18 20.54.17The Rose (but you'd be forgiven for calling it mistaking it with graph paper)Austrian rootshttps://sojourneyers.com/2013/09/13/austrian-roots/
https://sojourneyers.com/2013/09/13/austrian-roots/#respondFri, 13 Sep 2013 23:07:31 +0000http://sojourneyers.com/?p=1765]]>For as long as I can remember, I’d heard the story of my mother’s youth in Großraming, Austria (a name that summoned the same giggles from Zara as they did from me 35 years ago) and had pored over the handful of black and white photos she had from this period, where her family of six stood somberly dressed in home-made clothes against the backdrop of Großraming’s verdant and rolling hills. It was a part of my heritage I was eager to explore and as I entered adulthood, I dreamed of one day being able to visit it with her. And yet, life happened, years passed and we never seemed to find the time. So when my dream of this year of travel first took root, one of my priorities became to finally take my mom to Austria. And in the end, the long delay was worth it, as being able to share this heritage with Zara and Jonathan made the experience even more memorable.

My mom was born in Upper Austria, in the throes of WW II, to parents who had been driven out of Yugoslavia after Hitler invaded (first sent to Poland and then to Austria). She grew up speaking Serbo-Croatian at home and learning German at school, until her family finally had the opportunity to immigrate to Los Angeles in the mid-50s. Life for them after the war was difficult (as it was for most) — they lived in former army barracks with one bedroom shared amongst the six of them and a communal bathroom down the hall, yet my mother’s memories of that time were fond as I suspect her parents shielded her from the real worries. I knew several of her relatives had stayed in the region and raised their families there, but contact with them over the years had been very limited.

After picking up my mom in Vienna, we drove the back roads into Großraming on an unusually hot afternoon, through rolling hills and other small villages and across the river Enns, to the family-run guesthouse in the village where we’d booked a room for two nights – Kirchenwirt Ahrer. It was located across the street from the church were my mom had her first communion and as we sat in the hot sun enjoying a refreshing beer in the outside garden, Zara grabbed my mom’s hand and dragged her across the road so as to the the first to explore the church cemetery and locate the Gabaldo family plot.

The next two days were filled with strolls down memory lane, getting to know family I’d never met and sketching out a complicated family tree on Jonathan’s iPad. My mom’s cousin, Tomislav, was our primary tour guide, and his 17-year old granddaughter served the dual (and equally critical) roles of translator and companion to Zara. We were invited into their homes for dinner, where we shared plenty of laughter even when divided by a language.

We visited the site that had housed the former army barracks they lived in (now a power plant), the hydroelectric dam where my grandfather had worked, the tiny train station from which they departed for the boat that would take them to America and the site of her old school. And Zara formed her own ties to Großraming by getting her ears pierced at the jewelry store where Tomislav worked and buying an authentic Austrian dirndl which she insisted on wearing even in the 90 degree heat.

After Großraming, we drove 30 minutes north to Styer, where some of our other relatives lived. Helga, my second cousin, went out of her way to show us around and we were invited to a lovely barbecue at her brother’s place one evening.

Before we visited, I’d been so excited about the sites I’d visit from my mom’s youth. Once we were there, however, what became most meaningful was connecting with this long-lost side of my family, hearing the stories of our shared history and better understanding the tapestry of my own life.

]]>https://sojourneyers.com/2013/09/13/austrian-roots/feed/0jenfkirkMy mom (girl on left) and her family in Grossraming, AustriaChristmas, 1948, in GrossramingGrossraming!Location of old barracks where my mom livedTrain station from which her family departed Austria for AmericaZara playing with my mom's cousin's granddaughter, Theresa, our trusted interpreterWith Mom's cousin Tomi and wife AnniThe crowd that accompanied Zara to her ear piercing. In front of KirchenwirtAt the Gabaldo family plot in Grossraming cemetary.More GrossramingBarbecue at my mom's cousin's son's house in StyerMy mom and HelgaMy mom's cousin, Mira, and her daughter, HelgaAustrian Alpshttps://sojourneyers.com/2013/09/04/austrian-alps/
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Pre-hike gondola ride

You may recall that we introduced my mom to some pretty cool hikes in the Wellington region when she visited us in New Zealand. (She, on the other hand, may argue that we converted her holiday into a marathon training session.) In any case, we couldn’t be in such close proximity to the Alps and let her off the hook on this visit.

After Salzburg, we headed north towards Innsbruck, lunched there after a quick walk around and then wended our way up into the hills, which quickly morphed into mountains. Our destination was Solden, a popular winter playground in the Ötztal region that is much more laid-back in the summer months when visitors swap ski poles for hiking sticks. Plenty of last-minute accommodations were on offer so we rented a traditional ski apartment in the heart of the village.

Jonathan spent the first evening perusing the hiking maps for potential routes and the next morning we set off on foot for the gondola to take us halfway up the mountain. The temperature was brisk (perfect hiking weather), especially after several weeks when we hadn’t experienced a daytime dip in the thermometer below 80 degrees, and the sky was mostly sunny but with a few darker clouds on the horizon. My mom’s only protection against the Alpine elements was a jean jacket and a straw hat, so I hoped the weather would hold.

The first hour was a gentle incline traversing the mountain, but then the serious hiking began. Up, up and more up. And then, the rain began. Also, as was typically the case on our New Zealand tramps, we noticed that most people were coming down the mountain just as we were really getting started. The skies cooperated for a short while to allow for a lovely lunch break, much needed rest break and panoramic views, but once I heard thunder in the distance, I panicked (although I argued it was mostly to get everybody to up their pace). After a quick consultation, Jonathan and I decided to abort our initial route (which seemed too ambitious and risky) and instead head towards another gondola, from where we could better evaluate the weather conditions. The temperature had decidedly dropped, but Jonathan was staying true to his English roots by claiming not to be cold and refusing to put on his sweater (whereas I was bundled up in a scarf, a sweater and a rain jacket).

By the time we reached the gondola, we were all a bit damp and cold, but we put it to a vote and everybody was game for heading down the mountain on foot rather than taking the easy gondola ride back down to the village. Fortunately, the sun soon decided to make another appearance and we stopped at a lovely mountain inn for some refreshments and an apple strudel and soaked up some rays. And because this is Austria, where everything is so clean and well-organized, there was an extensive playground with an enormous tunnel slide and a two trampolines for Zara to expend some or her excess energy (which she always seems to have, even after a long hike).

The hike down the rest of the mountain was a relentless downhill, but we had it to ourselves, passing only a cow herder and his charges (which chased my mom down a stretch of the path). By the time we reached our apartment, Jonathan calculated we’d descended 4,000 feet and my knees felt it.

The next day we recovered with a short stroll around town and by going for a swim in the “adventure bath” at the Freizeit Arena.

One of the highlights of the visit was our drive out of Sölden as we headed towards Bolzano, Italy. We took the Timmelsjoch, which is a high mountain pass that connects the Otzal Valley in Austria with South Tyrol in Italy. As we climbed the pass on the Austrian side, the road was wide and well-engineered and the route had five stopping points targeted at tourists, complete with stylish architectural displays, where one could read about the history of the region and its geology, learn about the construction of the road, explore a fantastical sculpture garden and breathe in the crisp Alpine air. We even stopped to share a last schnitzel before leaving Austria at Rasthaus Timmelsjoch on the summit.

The second we crossed the border into Italy, the situation changed dramatically. The road narrowed, the guardrails disappeared and there were no places to pull over unless one wanted to perch one’s car on the edge of a precipice. As my acrophobia went into overdrive, I had to have Jonathan take over the steering wheel. Fortunately I did, because the drive soon started to feel like a rally car race as we sped down the mountain with Italians inured to driving on dangerous roads. Once we read that the road was first built by Mossolini (although it wasn’t completed until the 1960s), “to be Mossolinied” entered the Kirk Family lexicon along with “to be Amalfied”. Let’s just say that I am not a big fan of driving in Italy. (Much more to come on that in a later post!)

No jumper required.

Lunchtime antics in Innsbruck–it’s amazing what this kid will do.

Changeable weather

Up, up and away

On the Timmelsjoch

One of the stopping points on the Timmelsjoch

And of course we expected to find a sculpture garden on an Alpine pass.

]]>https://sojourneyers.com/2013/09/04/austrian-alps/feed/0jenfkirkPre-hike gondola ride2013-08-13 17.40.04Lunchtime antics in Innsbruck--it's amazing what this kid will do.2013-08-13 12.59.05Up and up and more up2013-08-15 11.24.172013-08-15 11.35.572013-08-15 12.34.222013-08-13 11.50.452013-08-15 11.25.082013-08-15 12.30.402013-08-15 12.39.25Salzburg – Where the Hills Will Always be Alivehttps://sojourneyers.com/2013/08/27/salzburg-where-the-hills-will-always-be-alive/
https://sojourneyers.com/2013/08/27/salzburg-where-the-hills-will-always-be-alive/#commentsTue, 27 Aug 2013 15:50:23 +0000http://sojourneyers.com/?p=1715]]>

Tour guide Zara

Our cheesy bus

Our real tour guide

Leopoldskron Palace

The Gazebo

The church where the Captain and Maria tied the knot

Post-tour beer garden

Full disclosure. I’m one of those Sound of Music freaks. I’ve probably seen the movie at least a 100 times, was in the musical with my sister, Amanda, at the Wharf Theater in 1982 and performed it with my siblings at home more times than was fair to my parents. My two sisters and I donned dirndls, my brother wore lederhosen and we recruited friends to fill out the rest of the Von Trapp family. In fairness, my mom was born in Austria during WW II, so we felt an especially close tie to the story.

I’d dreamed of visiting Austria with my mother since I was in my teens, and had even made a point of going out of my way to avoid Austria on prior European trips, preferring to wait until I could do so with my mother at my side. Once her ticket was booked, I had to add Salzburg to the itinerary. And was there ever ANY doubt that we’d take a Sound of Music tour in Salzburg?

Interestingly, there are at least two tour companies that lay claim to the “original Sound of Music tour”. We went with Panorama Tours and had a fantastic time, owing in very large part to our very entertaining guide. Zara eagerly dressed in the dirndl we had recently bought her in Grossraming, my mom’s hometown.

I was just a wee bit excited and determined to snag good seats on the bus, so we arrived nearly half an hour early. The bus was already there, as was our tour guide, but Zara took it upon herself to climb into the driver’s seat. By the time the other passengers started arriving, she was playing the part of official tour guide, requesting their tickets and asking them whether they’d like a beverage.

The actual tour was relatively light on sights, but our guide’s humorous banter regarding Sound of Music trivia, the soundtrack playing in the background, the gorgeous scenery and the general enthusiasm on the bus made it a complete blast.

So what did we see?

Leopoldskron Palace: This is on the lake where the famous boating scene was filmed and served as the Captain’s backyard, although the interior scenes of the Von Trapp home were filmed elsewhere.

Hellbrunn Palace and the Gazebo: The gazebo where the “16 going on 17” scene was filmed was originally located at Leopoldskron Palace, but due to constant trespassing from crazed SOM fans, they moved it to this location and reconstructed it. It is a lot smaller than I’d expected and the gazebo’s interior scenes actually were filmed on a sound stage, because the gazebo wasn’t large enough. (In fact, you can no longer even enter the gazebo, as they locked it after an elderly woman injured herself trying to channel Liesl leaping from bench to bench.)

Nonnberg Abbey: A quick drive by of this still active convent where the real Maria was a novice.

Salzburg Lake District: Where the picnic scenes were filmed high on a hill…

Mondsee: Where the wedding scene was actually filmed (although it was supposed to be Nonnberg Abbey).

As our tour bus climbed the verdant hills towards Mondsee, “Edelweiss” was piped through the bus’s speakers, transporting me back 30+ years as we unabashedly sang along (and I fought back a few tears). The only thing that could have made the experience sweeter would have been to have my siblings by my side (but then I would have required a full box of tissues). And special thanks to my sister, Amanda, who was always our musical director —

p.s. Even Jonathan enjoyed the tour, although he did admit to one cringe-worthy moment when he saw a group of tourists burst into laughter when they saw our tour bus.

]]>https://sojourneyers.com/2013/08/27/salzburg-where-the-hills-will-always-be-alive/feed/2jenfkirkTour guide ZaraOur cheesy busOur real tour guide2013-08-10 14.23.132013-08-10 14.25.13The Gazebo2013-08-10 15.53.36The church where the Captain and Maria tied the knotPost-tour beer gardenMagical Lake Bledhttps://sojourneyers.com/2013/08/21/magical-lake-bled/
https://sojourneyers.com/2013/08/21/magical-lake-bled/#respondWed, 21 Aug 2013 09:29:21 +0000http://sojourneyers.com/?p=1671]]>After Prague, we were desperate for something relaxing, especially for Jonathan’s birthday week. (With approximately 17 destinations in the past six weeks, we’ve strayed seriously far from our original plan to have a couple of European bases and tempers were fraying and moods were, well, moody.) I’d heard positive reports on Slovenia generally, but still didn’t know whether it would fit the bill. But, we needed to move on so we booked a last minute place at Lake Bled and headed south.

We broke up the long drive with one night in Bratislava, which used to be part of Czechoslovakia but has stronger German roots. It’s situated on the Danube, is not as grand and exciting as Prague and retains a bit more of the Communist era feel, but it’s a welcoming place with a charming old town packed with outdoor restaurants and cafes. We also enjoyed a much welcome break from the price inflation we’ve felt in our other European destinations. The following morning we drove through Austria (best highway roadstops ever!), and crossed the border into Slovenia with a gorgeous drive over the Julian Alps down into Lake Bled.

Bled was perfect. It felt like being at summer camp in a fairytale setting. The lake is small enough to easily circumnavigate on foot (under 7 km), so the setting felt cozy, yet incredibly picturesque. Lake Bled even comes with a miniature island, which houses a pilgrimage church. We never made it out there, but a set director could not design a more photographic scene.

For me, lake swimming typically conjures up images of murky waters hiding unknown horrors, but Lake Bled’s waters were as pristine as any we’ve experienced.The water’s temperature, although a bit too bracing to slowly wade into, was perfectly refreshing when jumping off of the high dive at Grajsko kopališče (the Castle Bathing Area). The lake has several designated swimming areas, but people line the banks along its entire circumference for picnics and swims and by the end of our week Zara had swum in all four quarters of the lake.

Another day we rented bikes and cycled through the surrounding countryside and its tiny hamlets in 90-degree heat. It was Zara’s first independent bike ride on roads with cars so I was a bit of a nervous nelly each time a car barreled by at 40 mph, but I did my best to remain calm. (I’m not sure that Zara would agree that I succeeded.) Once we reached the lake side, we cooled down with ice cream cones, cycled to the top of the lake where Z further cooled down with another swim and then raced against (and lost) a fast-moving thunderstorm for a very soggy but exciting ride back to our place.

In keeping with the summer camp theme, we also summer tobogganed at the Straza and Z and J spent hours enjoying a ropes course at Pustolovski Park at the top of that same ski hill.

Another day we took a 20 minute stroll up to Bled Castle, which is a cozy castle with panoramic views of the verdant hills and dramatic alps. Although the castle is worth a visit for the views alone, it also has a printing shop with a reconstructed Gutenberg printing press, so we had an interesting demo from the apprentice printer on the printing method. We had hoped to dine in the restaurant there one evening as the setting can’t be beat, but we ran out of time.

We stayed at the Apartment Gaja and were lucky enough to snag the apartment with a postcard view towards Bled Castle. In five minutes, we could walk to the lake or almost any restaurant in town. The Slovenians were incredibly friendly, English was widely-spoken, wifi worked well, the cuisine was not one-dimensional (we even found Indian and Mexican) and, perhaps most importantly, even in the peak of the summer tourist season, it didn’t feel unbearably crowded. (Oh, and I almost forgot, no mozzies!) If I lived in Europe, Bled, Slovenia would be a top choice for a summer cabin and I would happily return for a longer stay. I was eager to explore more of Slovenia but my mom was flying into Vienna in two days so Austria beckoned…and, we were on the road again, but with moods a lot sunnier.

We spent a wonderful five days in Prague, in which I rediscovered a city I’d first become acquainted with in college and Zara discovered Chicken Joe.

I turned 21 in Prague, exactly half my lifetime ago, in an apartment rented for three days, an act that felt so decadent in the decades before Airbnb. I still remember it cost only $20/night for 2 bedrooms and a full kitchen. In 1992, only three years after the Velvet Revolution, Prague was still emerging onto the global travel scene. Returning after two decades, I was relieved to see that although it has long since transformed into a tourist mecca, it hasn’t lost its ability to enchant. There are more street performers, kitschy museums, tourist restaurants offering mediocre fare and crowds (and a hotel room is 10x what it was on my first visit), but its red rooftops, cobbled streets, fascinating history, gorgeous architecture and music make it a place where I could easily imagine staying. We’d originally booked only three nights in Prague, but extended for two more days.

The first night we soaked in the views as the sun set over the Charles Bridge with drinks at one of the several restaurants now sitting on the banks of the Vltava River. The setting was perfect and something I could have happily done every evening.

We spent another day exploring Prague Castle, an impressive complex set on a hill across the river looking back over the city. The views are magnificent from almost anywhere on the grounds, but seeking out even a better bird’s eye view, we climbed to the top of the Bell Tower. The tower houses Prague’s largest bell, named Zikmund, and legend has it that the bell breaking portends bad news. (The most recent example of this was in 2002, when the bell broke and Prague suffered its worst flooding ever.) Zara concluded that this was just a coincidence.

What else did we do…

Franz Kafka Museum: An oddly affecting museum, its dimly-lit rooms presumably are designed to evoke Kafka’s depression and personal struggles. At times, however, it was too dark to even read the exhibit explanations. Not sure if that was be design or due to burnt out bulbs! Not the most kiddy-friendly place to visit, however.

The Chocolate Museum: Just because…it was a toss up between this and the adjacent Torture Museum.

The Toy Museum: We have a 6-year old… But, this would also be a must for Barbie fans (and a must-not for those who think Barbie is evil).

The Globe: Feeling a bit burnt out by the crowds and the heat, we passed a very relaxing afternoon at this bookstore/cafe. It’s been a fixture on the Prague expat scene since opening in 1993 and I can see why. With its delicious Western fare, a full bar, tasty coffee, pleasant courtyard and strong wifi, its easy to wile away the hours here. While Zara devoured countless books in the kiddie section, we enjoyed some much needed peace and quiet. We’ve been moving at too fast a pace since arriving in Europe mid-June–we all are feeling it.

Mozart’s Requiem: We enjoyed a lovely performance of one of Jonathan’s favorite musical pieces at St. Nicholas Church off the Old Town Square. The city lives and breathes music and if we’d had more time, there were countless other concerts on offer.

Segway: One of the highlights of our time in Prague happened the last evening. We’d been on our way to dinner and the next thing we knew we were on Segways when they informed us that Zara was old enough. (In comparison, one of SF’s Segway tour companies requires kids to be at least 12 years old and 100 pounds and requires all riders to take a 45-50 minute on board training session, watch a 9 minute safety video and wear reflective safety vest. My impression is that the Czech Republic doesn’t share the US lawsuit culture!) Zara took to the Segway immediately, leaving me in the dust, and our tour guide, Ondřej, was wonderfully fun and informative and took us through neighborhoods we had previously missed, including past the John Lennon Wall, where Zara wrote her own message of peace.

And because we are always on the hunt for tasty Indian fare (especially after an involuntary hiatus for several weeks in Italy), we were thrilled to discover Indian Jewel, a lovely restaurant with seating in a small courtyard in the Old Town. We went back for seconds two nights later (and overheard another touring English family mentioning how they were there for the 5th time)! It’s a relief to know that some curry lovers are even more fanatical than we are.

Still, there was a lot we left unexplored…another excuse for a visit!

And you may be wondering about this Chicken Joe? He’s a Belfast-born street performer whose act includes reclining on a bunch of crushed beer bottles while an audience member stands on top of him and he makes off-color jokes. He made quite an impression on our 6-year old who insisted on watching his performance in the Old Town Square at least five times…travel, the best education.

]]>https://sojourneyers.com/2013/08/14/prague-memories-and-chicken-joe/feed/0jenfkirkWalking towards the Old TownIn front of the Charles BridgeAstronomical clockChasing bubbles in the Old Town Square2013-07-21 20.41.48Red rooftops2013-07-22 14.06.27View from the Bell Tower at Prague CastleNo explanation required!Contributing to the Art Brick wallBucket ListA new friend!Zara's contribution to the John Lennon WallExploring on SegwaysChicken JoeThe Italian Riviera – Rapallo and Cinque Terrahttps://sojourneyers.com/2013/07/31/the-italian-riviera-rapallo-and-cinque-terra/
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Portofino

From atop Castello Brown

Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous

View from Rapallo Promenade

Boat to Portofino

Tigullio Gulf

Portofino – in front of whimsical sculpture garden

Climb to Castello Brown–seeking temporary relief in the shade

View of Portofino from Castello Brown

Panorama from above Portofino

Zara in private reverie (singing to Bailey)

On pebbly beach near Abbey of San Fruttuoso

Abbey of San Fruttuoso

Waiting for a boat

Aperol Spritz and tower of delicious, complimentary appetizers

Rapallo – at night

Cinque Terra

Zara’s favorite spot

Soaking in the view

Vernazzo beach – Cinque Terra

As we approached the coastal town of Rapallo on the Italian Riviera, I could already sense that I was going to like it here. The scenery resonated with me in a way that the more dramatic but dry and precipitous cliffs of Amalfi had not.

We had booked a couple of nights at Il Gatto, a charming but reasonably priced boutique hotel within a 5 minute walk of Rapallo’s promenade. Zara adored the hotel’s cat theme (and the actual cat roaming the lobby) and we felt so comfortable in the hotel (and in Rapallo) that we extended our stay by another night.

Rapallo is a town of about 35,000 people and is located a few kilometers west of the much more ritzy Portofino (just a 20 minute boat ride away). It feels like a regular town, not one only targeted towards tourists or the mega rich, and I could easily imagine living here for a few months, unlike Portofino where owning a luxury yacht seems a requisite to residency. (Portofino IS just as attractive as you’ve heard though–I can understand why it has long been a haunt of the rich and famous.)

Rapallo had a lovely promenade where the vacationing crowds strolled late into the evenings. It was on this promenade that we were introduced to our first (but not last) Aperol Spritzes, a delicious aperitif with an appealing orange hue that perfectly befits a warm summer night. And we were delighted to discover that when ordering drinks in Rapallo’s restaurants during cocktail hour, you’re treated to a tower of free and delicious appetizers, enough to suffice for dinner if you aren’t ravenous. (Of course, we still always also ordered dinner!)

On our final day in the area we took a 1-hour journey on a packed train (without AC) to Riomaggiore, the southernmost town ofCinque Terra. I’d always dreamed of visiting Cinque Terra, but July may not be the best time to do it if you dislike crowds. We’d all donned our hiking boots with the expectation of walking on at least a portion of the hiking trail linking the five villages, but learned upon arrival that the section we’d planned on hiking was closed due to some landslides from 2012’s torrential rains. In a way, I was relieved to get out of hiking in the heat. Instead, we spent about an hour exploring Riomaggiore and then hopped on a boat which took us to Vernazzo where we stayed for a few hours, ate lunch, relaxed on the pebbly beach and swam in the sparkling sea. We caught the train back to Rapallo from the most northern (and largest) village of Monterosso. This time it was an express train that thankfully was air-conditioned.

Three days here wasn’t enough. Trails in the green hills still beckoned, countless beaches were left unexplored and more evenings spent sipping Aperol Spritz’s tempted us.

I know we’ll return to the Italian Riviera some day–just maybe not in July.

We headed north after departing the Amalfi Coast, our ultimate destination being the Italian Riviera, but we broke up the drive with a stay in Tarquinia. I’ve rarely been as happy to leave a place as I was the Amalfi Coast. What a relief to be on level ground again!

I’d never heard of Tarquinia, but I was eager for a place off the beaten tourist path but with some interesting history. Tarquinia was a big win on both fronts.

It’s the site of an Etruscan Necropolis, with tombs dating back almost 2500 years. They are located under a large grassy field on a hilltop just outside of town and at first sight are unassuming mounds of the earth. However, each tomb is reached by entering a shelter adjacent to the mound and descending a staircase about 30 feet, where the burial chambers are carved into rock and brightly colored paintings depicting Etruscan life still adorn the chambers. The entire site was very quiet–just a few other visitors–which was such a welcome change after the crowds of the prior weeks.

Etruscan tomb mounds in Tarquinia

Etruscan tomb paintings over 2000 years old

The town itself was also lovely and populated primarily with Italian tourists. A perfect place to while away a few hours in one of the town squares cooling off with some of the local frizzante. It’s the type of town that it is easy to imagine spending a few relaxing weeks (or months) in. On the way home from dinner, we met a Swedish woman and her teenage daughter (out walking their cats on leashes (!)) who have lived a nomadic life for years, but are currently calling Tarquinia “home” (a cave in Spain was another recent abode).

Pisa

As we headed north the next morning, we stopped for coffee in the seaside town of Piombino, where we could see Elba in the “not far enough” distance. (I hadn’t appreciated how close to shore Elba is and it clearly wasn’t remote enough for Napoleon’s exile.) After we fueled up, our next stop was Pisa and its leaning tower. The contrast to the Etruscan Necropolis couldn’t have been greater, with busloads of tourists and day-trippers from Rome. Still, it was surprisingly cool to see in person. Interestingly, we learned that when Jonathan visited in 1988, it had leaned nearly twice as much as it does now, as they closed it in 1991 for about eight years to stabilize the tower after another one nearby unexpectedly toppled and the stabilization included some necessary straightening but not enough to take away the tourism appeal!

]]>https://sojourneyers.com/2013/07/24/up-italys-west-coast-tarquinia-and-pisa/feed/0jenfkirkImageEtruscan tomb mounds in TarquiniaEtruscan tomb paintings over 2000 years oldImageImageAcrophobia in Amalfihttps://sojourneyers.com/2013/07/18/acrophobia-in-amalfi-2/
https://sojourneyers.com/2013/07/18/acrophobia-in-amalfi-2/#respondThu, 18 Jul 2013 09:24:30 +0000http://sojourneyers.com/?p=1527]]>The Amalfi Coast had long been on my “must see” list, with its cliffside towns and crystalline blue Mediterranean seas, but eleven days there was just too much. I know I don’t love the place.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s gorgeous. Colorful villages are improbably propped up on the literal edge of cliffs, hundreds of feet above the sea (see “Problem list below”). Stone staircases weave up across the lemon-tree filled hillsides, as many of the villages have extremely limited car access. Numerous beaches dot the coastline (although we didn’t spot any sand ones). The sea really does sparkle and luxury yachts cruise the coastline. The sun shines brightly and strongly (although we did have same rain–in July!).

So what is there not to like?

Problem #1: We drove. Driving the Amalfi Coast is not for the faint-hearted (or, arguably, the sane). Especially at the height of the tourist season where you compete with massive tour buses, local buses driving at breakneck speed, hordes of Mercedes minivans (also loaded with tourists), other hapless tourist drivers and pedestrians, and local drivers (many on mopeds) who seem to have a tenuous regard for their own longevity, all on narrow (and I mean one car width narrow), windy roads that hug the cliff. Suffice to say, the first few days my nerves were shot from the drive there and a subsequent day outing drive to Sorrento. My hands sprouted callouses from my tight grip on the steering wheel. After a couple of days, we realized that this was a coastline best explored by boat.

An inch to spare

Problem #2: As I mentioned, houses are improbably propped up on the literal edges of cliffs. The cliffs are limestone and the building sites seem to have stood the test of time, but my incipient Acrophobia was in overdrive. Even copious amounts of Chianti couldn’t relax me. Thus, I had to resort to the local treat, Limoncello (the liquor, not the gelato).

Limoncello

Problem #3: We like to walk. On the plus side, we could walk to town within 20 minutes. The big minus was that half of that walk involved braving the main road as a pedestrian. The only other place we could walk was up, which we did a couple of times, but it proved to be primarily an aerobic workout rather than a relaxing stroll.

Walk to Amalfi – one of the few sections with a sidewalk

Problem #4: We love Italian food. However, we don’t love ONLY Italian food, and we’ve learned that we can reach our Italian food limit rather quickly. There just aren’t ANY other options in this area.

But enough of the complaining. There was a lot we thoroughly enjoyed.

We stayed in a unique 1-bedroom “villa” on the famed 163 road connecting all of the towns on the Amalfi Coast. The owners were a truly generous couple who went above and beyond in making us feel at home, showering Zara with gifts, us with food and wine and not allowing their limited English to get in the way of sharing their enthusiasm for Amalfi with us.

Every morning we breakfasted out on the patio which offered a picture perfect view of Amalfi town.

View from our patio

We took a wonderful walk up the hillside to the town of Pogerola, where we had drinks and dinner at the delightful Gerry’s Pub. We sat outside on a patio with beautiful views of La Scala and Ravello and Gerry was so friendly he let me wear his cozy motorcycle jacket when the weather cooled.

Walk to Gerry’s Pub

Gerry’s Pub

Walk “home” from Gerry’s Pub

We swam in the Mediterranean several times. We took a ferry to the picturesque Portofino.

View down towards Amalfi town

Relaxing on our patio

Walk down to Duoglio Beach – 400 steps

Lido on Sorrento

Cliff architecture

Swimming – Zara’s favorite activity

View from ferry

We also did a day trip to Capri (unfortunately, on a day that rained during the first half), took a boat to the Emerald Grotto and had an interesting day trip to Pompeii (separate post pending on that). Five or six days here would have been perfect.

]]>https://sojourneyers.com/2013/07/18/acrophobia-in-amalfi-2/feed/0jenfkirk2013-07-06 10.15.38An inch to spareLimoncelloWalk to Amalfi - one of the few sections with a sidewalkView from our patioWalk to Gerry's PubGerry's PubWalk "home" from Gerry's PubView down towards Amalfi townRelaxing on our patioWalk down to Duoglio Beach - 400 stepsLido on SorrentoCliff architectureSwimming - Zara's favorite activityView from ferry